


The Great Boyfriend Bake-off

by mozaikmage



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, Baking, Crack, Ennoshita the movie director, Gen, Humor, M/M, inspired by a twitter thread
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 09:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12033300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozaikmage/pseuds/mozaikmage
Summary: I sawthis thread on twitterand then did the thing“I have no idea why I’m here,” Iwaizumi Hajime says to the camera pointed at his face.He was told he had to bake milk bread from scratch for Oikawa, and that it was going to be a parody of The Great British Bake-off, which he’s never even seen. He’s not sure why he went along with it. With any of it.





	The Great Boyfriend Bake-off

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my friend Katrina for responding to "can I ask you about baking for a fanfiction" with "sure?" and then being super helpful

 

“I have no idea why I’m here,” Iwaizumi Hajime says to the camera pointed at his face.

He was told he had to bake milk bread from scratch for Oikawa, and that it was going to be a parody of The Great British Bake-off, which he’s never even seen. He’s not sure why he went along with it. With any of it. And yet, here he is, standing in front of a baking station in a tent in the Miyagi countryside. Wearing an apron. At least the apron is solid mint, with no embarrassing text on it.

He needs to stop letting his friends talk him into things.

“Tell the audience what you’re going to do to win this competition,” Ennoshita prompts him.

“I tried making milk bread from scratch once and it was awful, but I guess I’ll try my best? What does winning even mean in this context?”

“You win if you make Oikawa cry tears of joy, and the prize is eternal bragging rights and a gift card to the bakery of your choice.” Matsukawa pops up next to him, putting an arm around him as the camera zooms out. Hanamaki does the same on Iwaizumi’s other side. Oikawa is nowhere to be seen, the eponymous boyfriends having been deemed too much of a distraction to be present during the baking of the treats.

“It’s just a fun little feel-good event for all our friends to watch on Youtube later and make fun of,” Hanamaki says.

“Why are you two gremlins here,” Iwaizumi deadpans. They adopted identically shocked and wounded looks.

“So rude, Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki says.

“After all we’ve done for you,” Matsukawa says.

“They fit the role best,” Ennoshita says, and doesn’t elaborate. He moves the camera over to Kuroo.

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, and I’m going to win the Great Boyfriend Bake-off!” The tall boy grins and makes peace signs with both his hands.

“See, Iwaizumi, that’s how you were supposed to do that,” Hanamaki yells. Iwaizumi glares at him.

“So, Kuroo-san, you’re making apple pie for Kozume Kenma, is that correct?” Ennoshita asks.

Kuroo nods. “Yup, and unlike my competitors, I’ve actually done so more than once in my life, so I think I have quite an advantage. They seem like nice people, but as the reality TV contestants say, I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to win.”

“Are you really,” Matsukawa drawls, unimpressed.

Kuroo laughs. “Nah. I’ll make friends _and_ win.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

The TV crew moves onto the final contestant, Yamaguchi Tadashi.

Yamaguchi is pale and trembling like a leaf and for a split second, Ennoshita feels bad about inviting him to this thing.

“Ennoshita-senpai!” Yamaguchi squeaks. He’s shaking a little less now that he sees a familiar face. Matsukawa and Hanamaki hover nearby, trying to determine when they could step in without freaking the kid out too much.

“Hey, Yamaguchi. Introduce yourself, and tell us what you’re going to do to win today.”

“I’m going to make shortberry strawcake- I mean, strawberry shortcake, for my b-boyfriend, Tsukishima Kei, and--” he takes a deep breath, and steels his face into a determined expression. “It’s going to be great!”

The two hosts pat him encouragingly on the shoulder. “We’re sure it will,” they say, in unison.

“I still don’t think it’s fair to make those two the hosts,” Iwaizumi complains. “They’re going to pick on me the most because they’ve had three years of experience doing exactly that.”

Ennoshita stops. “You know what?” he says. “You’re right. Since we obviously can’t have your boyfriends in here, we should bring in some other people to liven this up a little.” He taps at his phone, and a minute later, Sawamura Daichi and Sugawara Koushi walk in. The camera swivels towards them.

“Hi, everyone, and welcome to The Great Boyfriend Bake-off!” Suga beams, Daichi smiles, Hanamaki and Matsukawa slide into place next to them. Yamaguchi seems infinitely calmer, and Kuroo gives the new arrivals a friendly wave. “You have four hours to make your boyfriend’s favorite dessert. Recipes have been provided. On your mark, get set, bake!”

The four “hosts” circle around the bakers, asking them questions and narrating what they were doing. They stop in front of Kuroo first. “So, Kuroo, apple pie can be made in less than half of the allotted time. How do you plan on using your four hours to the fullest?” Suga blinks up at him, face perfectly serious. Next to him, Daichi is trying his best not to laugh.

“Uh...I’ll make two pies?” Daichi snorts, and Suga smacks him. Kuroo ignores them in favor of fiddling with the settings on his food processor. “But actually though, I’m making the pie crust from scratch, because store-bought crust is cheating. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take. Hopefully it’ll be fine.”

“How’s the whole competition part of this thing going to work, anyway?” Kuroo asks, and everyone shushes him at once.

“Do not question the bake-off,” Matsukawa intones. “The bake-off questions you. What’re you doing right now, actually?”

Kuroo hits pulse on the food processor, then adds ice water and pulses it again. “Making shortcrust pastry! According to this recipe I found on the internet.”

“Have you made shortcrust pastry before?” Hanamaki asks.

“Nope! So this should be fun,” Kuroo says. He pours the mixture out of the food processor and onto the table, and starts shaping it into a mound according to the directions. “I hope it turns out okay.”

Iwaizumi is relieved his ability to follow directions well extends to baking. He makes a starter exactly like the recipe said, and is now staring at the stand mixer with an expression of incredulity. “What the fuck is a dough hook?”

“It’s the one that’s already attached to the thing, don’t worry,” Sugawara reassures him. Iwaizumi nods gratefully and whisks together the dough ingredients. He is focused. He is on a roll. He is in the zone.

Then, Matsukawa and Hanamaki casually lean against his counter and shatter the mood.

“Iwaizumi, tell us all about that one time you tried to make milk bread before and it was awful,” Hanamaki asks, smirking.

Iwaizumi groans. “I knew having you two here would be a mistake.”

“The people deserve to know,” Matsukawa says, doing his best to keep a serious face.

Iwaizumi starts the mixer, and it whirrs to life. “I can’t hear you over the sound of me being a productive member of society.”

“You’re making milk bread for your boyfriend, I hardly think that qualifies you to be a productive member of society,” Daichi cuts in, smiling good-naturedly.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki turn to him in shock. “Sawamura, you’re _savage._ ”

Daichi tilts his head sideways, perplexed, and then turns. “Suga--”

“It’s a good thing, dear,” Suga explains, patting Daichi’s arm.

Iwaizumi ignores them all. The recipe says to punch the dough to knead it, so he does so. Forcefully.

“Damn, Iwaizumi, what did that dough ever do to you?” Kuroo asks, looking over.

“I’m pretending it’s your face,” Iwaizumi snaps. Kuroo gasps dramatically.

“Sorry, Sawamura, clearly Iwa-chan’s the real savage here,” Hanamaki says, and Iwaizumi gives him a long, considering look until Hanamaki apologizes.

Yamaguchi is very carefully making the batter for the shortcake. Or, he’s trying to. He already dropped one egg on the floor, Lord knows what else he’ll manage to destroy in this process. Pinch serving is one thing, but making a cake for Tsukki in front of _other people_ , including cool upperclassmen? He’s never made a cake in his life before this week, when he found about this...competition thing, and then he made three cakes to practice. They turned out edible, at least Tsukki said so, but...

“Yamaguchi, how’s it going?”

Yamaguchi squeaks. His batter’s whisked, and he’s in the process of “quickly incorporating the flour” when the question startles him and more flour than he intended falls into the bowl. He turns the bowl in his hands and whisks it quickly, trying his best not to panic. He looks up at his captain and vice-captain’s faces and smiles anxiously.

“It’s fine! I’m fine! Definitely not freaking out, haha!” There’s a drop of batter on his nose. “I really hope Tsukki likes it...”

“I’m sure he will,” Suga says, smiling.

Kuroo slides over. “Do you need any help? I made my filling and I need the crust to chill for an hour, so I can mix stuff for you if you want.”

“I’m fine! Thank you, Kuroo-san.” Yamaguchi just needs to pour the batter into the center of the cake pan and then stick it in the oven, which he can totally do by himself.

“What’s that you said about not making friends, or something?” Daichi calls, and Kuroo yells back, “IT WAS A JOKE.”

Meanwhile, The Boyfriends are sitting at a table outside the tent, with plates of their favorite desserts in front of them. Matsukawa and Hanamaki have temporarily abandoned the bakers to pester their other halves.

“Hanger--I mean, Oikawa-- Tooru, tell us, what do you look for in a perfect milk bread?” Hanamaki says.

Oikawa sticks his tongue out, and holds up a slice of milk bread in front of the camera, grinning. “Milk bread should be fluffy and squishy and yummy, with a golden brown crust.”

“I get the impression that you are not, in fact, a professional baker,” Matsukawa says.

“How did you know,” Oikawa deadpans.

Kenma’s playing a video game.

“What do you look for in a perfect apple pie, Kozume-kun?” Matsukawa asks him.

“...It has apples in it,” Kenma says, after a long moment. “And cinammon. I like cinammon.” His PSP makes a sound and he hunches over further. “I have to replay this level now, thanks.”

There is a pause.

“Okay then,” Hanamaki says, “Moving on...”

Tsukishima is eating his strawberry shortcake with a perfectly neutral expression on his face.

“What are you looking for in a perfect strawberry shortcake?” Hanamaki asks.

“Strawberries. Shortcake. Please don’t talk to me while I’m eating.”

“You weren’t actually supposed to eat it, it’s for display...”

“Please don’t talk to me while I’m eating,” Tsukishima repeats, and stabs his fork into the cake with unnecessary force.

“I guess Oikawa’s the only one who’s actually watched The Great British Bake-off, then,” Hanamaki whispers to his partner.

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” Matsukawa responds.

Back in the baking tent, Suga and Daichi entertain Iwaizumi while he waits for his dough to rise.

“Do you want to tell us the story of how you tried to make milk bread that one time?” Suga asks, blinking innocently.

“And here I thought I’d be left at peace while Makki and Mattsun are gone,” Iwaizumi groans. He checks on his dough, but it appears unchanged.

“I thought you were all friends,” Daichi says, confused.

“When all three of us are making fun of Oikawa, we’re best friends. When the two of them are ganging up on me, they’re gremlins.”

“Reasonable,” Suga says. “Now, spill.”

Iwaizumi looks at the timer, and decides he’s probably not getting out of it this time. “For his birthday a few years ago... I was following a recipe, but somehow ended up using expired yeast and too much starter and the result was...barely edible. Oikawa cried and hugged me and ate it anyway, though. And then never failed to bring up how ‘Iwa-chan doesn’t know how to bake!” He makes sarcastic air-quotes as he does his impression of Oikawa, and rolls his eyes with some fondness. “Truly, he has the worst personality.”

“And yet, you’re dating him,” Kuroo calls from his station.

Iwaizumi shrugs. “We all make mistakes.” He pauses. “But seriously though, he has a lot of flaws but is genuinely a good person who wants to do his best, and I’m grateful for his presence in my life every day.” He turns to Ennoshita, who’s meticulously recording everything that goes on.  “If you cut after the mistakes bit he won’t speak to me for a week, so please don’t do that.” Ennoshita nods.

Yamaguchi cuts and prepares the strawberries while the cake bakes, like the recipe tells him to. The recipe says the cake should bake for 25 minutes, so after 20 minutes he opens the oven door and sticks a toothpick in the center. He closes the door, waits a little, and then does it again. And again. Childhood memories of burned toast and cookies and rice have surfaced and Yamaguchi is suddenly convinced he is going to burn his boyfriend’s favorite food so might as well double-triple-quadruple check that he’s not doing that.

“If you open and close the door so much, the cake might end up dense and undercooked,” Kuroo says softly. Yamaguchi flushes. “Just be patient.”

Yamaguchi sighs, checks the timer again, and cuts some more strawberries because the first batch wasn’t cut neatly enough.

Karasuno’s third-years circle around to Kuroo again. “So, Kuroo, when did you learn how to bake?”

Kuroo shrugs. “I think middle school? It’s fun. I like chemistry and measuring things precisely, so. I make apple pie for Kenma like once a month or so. This one’s going to be special, though.”

The pie’s already in the oven, so he holds up a piece of parchment paper with the outline of a cat and big, swooping kanji spelling out “Kenma,” and the camera focuses on it.  “This’ll be the top crust. I don’t usually do decorative crusts like this but I figured I should try something interesting for today,” he explains.

Suga and Daichi ooh and aah on cue. “Who knew you were so artistic, Kuroo-kun?” Suga says.

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or not,” Kuroo replies.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki wander back in and announce that they only have an hour left.

“60 minutes before your boyfriends find out just how much you love them after all,” Hanamaki says, and Matsukawa says, “Dude, that’s a bit much.”

Yamaguchi is locked in a permanent battle with the whipped cream. There is whipped cream on his apron, his arms, his face, the entire counter in front of him. But there’s also whipped cream on the cake, which is where it’s supposed to be, so all in all it’s good enough. He carefully puts the last strawberry slice on top and sticks the entire thing in the fridge, hoping against hope it actually tastes like how it’s supposed to.

Iwaizumi’s bread is cooling. It looks pretty much like how the plastic-wrapped milk bread Oikawa subsists on looks like, so he thinks he probably did fine. Unless he mixed up the salt and sugar or something, which he’s pretty sure he didn’t. Matsukawa and Hanamaki come over and look at it, furrowing their brows and pretending to be art critics.

“Great use of negative space. Conceptually intriguing,” Hanamaki says.

“Skillful application of color,” Matsukawa adds.

“It’s a fucking loaf of bread, you dorks,” Iwaizumi says, laughing slightly in spite of himself. “But thanks, I guess.”

They turn to Ennoshita. “Can this footage of Iwaizumi Hajime thanking us be in the final video, please?”

“I regret so many things,” Iwaizumi says.

Kuroo pulls his beautiful, golden-brown apple pie out of the oven, and the smell of cinammon and apples fills the tent.

“Whoa,” Matsukawa says, and everyone nods. The crust is striking, the pie altogether is breathtaking.

“Wow, Kuroo, way to blow everyone else out of the water,” Daichi says. Kuroo shrugs and laughs slightly.

 

“What do I think Iwa-chan’s milk bread is going to taste like?” Oikawa says into the camera, when they ask him. “Delicious, obviously. It’s Iwa-chan, he’s good at everything.”

Kenma looks slightly to the left of where he’s told to look and says, flatly, “The same as always, probably.”

Tsukishima ignores the question.

They call time a little early, because everyone finished before the four hours are up, and the boyfriends are ushered in.

Iwaizumi brings his loaf of bread up to the front of the tent.

“Iwa-chan! It looks like real food!” Oikawa exclaims, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and tries to squash the proud smile on his face.

“That certainly does look like milk bread, alright,” Suga comments, and everyone nods. Milk bread was produced.

Oikawa cuts off a slice, and everyone collectively holds their breath as he carefully bites off a bit and chews.

When he finally starts talking, his voice is choked with emotion. “This is the best milk bread I’ve ever had in my life,” Oikawa says. He picks up the loaf and starts to walk away. “I refuse to cry on camera,” he says, and the other Seijoh students exchange a knowing look.

 

Kenma stares at the apple pie for a solid minute in dead silence, and then says, “I can’t eat this, it’s too pretty. Kuro, how could you.”

Kenma does cut off a tiny piece eventually, carefully avoiding the decorative design, and takes a careful bite.

“Just as good as always,” he announces, and Kuroo lets out a sigh of relief.

 

Yamaguchi’s strawberry shortcake is a little... misshapen. It looks a bit squashed, like someone had sat on it, and the frosting’s melting a little because it didn’t chill for long enough, but it has strawberries, and shortcake, and whipped cream, like it’s supposed to.

Yamaguchi is definitely not crying over a freaking cake. He blows his nose, takes a few deep breaths, wipes some of the drops of frosting off the cake stand, and brings it up to the front.

Tsukishima is very quiet. He cuts a slice of cake and picks up a fork.

“Looks a bit undercooked, doesn’t it?” Daichi whispers, and Suga shushes him.

Tsukishima takes a bite. The cake is a little undercooked. It’s squishy and dense, and the whipped cream frosting isn’t fully set.

“It’s perfect,” he says, and Yamaguchi turns completely scarlet.

 

“Well, it looks like a three way tie here at The Great Boyfriend Bake-off, and nobody’s surprised,” the hosts announce later. “Good job, everyone!”

Everyone thinks the treats they made are too sweet, but their boyfriends are happy and that’s what counts.

**Author's Note:**

> I did a study abroad in hong kong this past summer and I literally ate 7-11 milk bread for breakfast every other day  
> pls talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/mashazart) or [tumblr](http://cubistemoji.tumblr.com/)


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